


The Nicest Dictator

by scotswhahae



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Crime, Evil, M/M, Mastermind, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scotswhahae/pseuds/scotswhahae
Summary: Jon’s a prisoner in the most dangerous prison in Westeros and for good reason. Robb is about to take over all of Westeros and become the most evil man to ever rule. Theon is Robb’s right hand man. The three of them make a good team.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	The Nicest Dictator

Another scream. Followed by a gunshot. Followed by the sound of a cell door slamming shut. The sound had been permeating throughout Cell Block D for hours now and Jon was certainly shaking in his own prison cell. He had moved to the tight corner, between the bed and the urinal. Jon only had a few more months in prison before he was released, back to his lovely Ygritte and their darling daughter. He was hoping to make parole, it would be nice to get out even earlier. 

Well, it would be nice to make it out alive. He heard the cell door to his immediate left open, there was some trite conversation, and then a startling loud sound of a gunshot, then the cell door was slammed shut. For a few seconds after that, it was totally silent. Jon had wondered if it was done. His question was answered when his cell door was slammed open. A tall redheaded woman entered, her high heels clacking. Two guards entered behind her, guns in hand. 

“Name?” She asked.

Jon had opened his mouth to answer, but the guard on the right beat him to it. “Jon Snow.”

“From where?”

“Wintertown in the North.”

The woman’s mouth twitched at that, as if Wintertown was in some way familiar to her. “What was his crime?”

“Armed robbery.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Really? This pretty thing here committed armed robbery? Well isn’t that something. We’ll take him.”

Impulsively, Jon spoke out of turn. “No! I don’t want to go anywhere with you!”

The woman laughed. “Ah. A feisty one, I see. He’ll like that.” She walked out of the cell and callously ordered, “Knock him out.” Then, a guard walked up to Jon and stabbed him in the neck with a needle. He was out in a matter of seconds. 

When he woke, he was tied to a chair in an interrogation room. The lights were unbearably bright and Jon’s eyes had obviously been tampered with, causing his temporary blindness. 

“Can you hear me, Jon Snow?”

It was the same voice from earlier, the redheaded woman. Jon chose not to answer her out of spite. And insolence. Unfortunately, his try at bravery was not rewarded. He was slapped harshly across the face. “Speak when you are spoken to!”

“Yes. I can hear you.”

“Ahh.” The lady sighed. “Was that so hard? Please cooperate, Jon Snow. This will be so much easier if you do.” The clacking of her heels permeated all around the interrogation room, high and pitchy and frankly, annoying as hell. “Why did you commit armed robbery?”

“None of your fucking business, whore.” Jon was a cold man of the North. He had seen things and done things that would make people’s skin crawl. He had survived 8 years in the worst prison in all of Westeros, he wasn’t afraid of some bitch in heels.

Despite not being afraid of her, he had expected to be physically punished for his rudeness. It didn’t happen. “You know, I can appreciate your rudeness. I understand it. You see, my late husband was from Winterfell, not too far from your native Wintertown. He would have responded just the same as you are now. But let me make this clear to you: your life means nothing to anyone anymore. You can work with us and live and someday make it back to your wife and daughter or, of course, you can die here. Choice is yours.”

The only thing that had kept Jon sane the past years was knowing that one day he would see his family again. His wife. His daughter. He sighed. “We were hungry and poor. I worked with a mechanic until everyone started using electric cars, putting us out of business. Had to eat somehow. Robbed a few banks at gunpoint and managed not to get caught. One day, I went to the wrong bank. I was caught. That’s it.”

“Fascinating story. I would ask how you got such a short sentence for robbing so many banks at gunpoint and only getting 8 and a half months in prison. Also, according to your file it says you shot a man in the leg. Dear me.” She stops walking ergo her clicks stop. “So, did the judge fuck you or did you fuck him?”

The judge had fucked him. Twice. 8 and a half years is a long time, but it’s nothing compared to the 35 years Jon was facing. “I sucked him off.” Jon lied, hoping it would sound better. It didn’t and the lady laughed at him cruelly. 

“Ah. You criminals are really all the same, huh? You’re all big and bad until it’s time to pay the consequences. Then you’re all sucking cocks.” She laughed at her own statement for quite a while. “Well it’s all well and good anyway. It suits our purpose. You’ve been a whore before, so you’ll be a whore again.”

Before Jon had the opportunity to protest, a needle was in his neck again and he was off to sleep.

“Up.” Jon opened his eyes to see a tall, sandy haired figure standing in the doorway of a room that he had apparently been placed in. “Who are you?”

“My name is not relevant to you. Nor will it ever be. I just need your obedience. That is all.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Fuck that.” The sandy haired man sighed and shook his head. He grabbed Jon and threw him over his shoulders. He took Jon in a large room with a tub in the middle. Unkindly, he threw Jon into the tub.

“You will stay in the tub for five minutes. You will then be presented with new clothes.”

“Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you.” Jon muttered. He liked the bath, though, and the water felt ridiculously nice on his skin. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had taken a bath. Must have been years. 

“I know that you must be angry and confused. This situation is far from ideal, I understand that. But you will learn obedience or you will die. He is not as patient as I and he will make you suffer if he must.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man sighed. “Stand up.” When Jon refused, the man grabbed him and took him out of the tub. He tried him with a towel and forced clothes onto Jon, which was quite the struggle. Jon cursed at him, spat at him, even kicked him once. Yet, the man still managed to clothe him. 

Then the man grabbed him and escorted him out of the room, all the while Jon was leaving scars on his back. “Let go of me you fuck!”

“Such a dirty mouth. The master will not like that.” Then he paused. “Or maybe he will.”

He took Jon into a bedroom. He threw Jon onto the floor and handcuffed Jon to a bedpost, leaving him completely immobile. “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” Jon chanted over and over again.

The man frowned. “He’ll be in here very soon. Please improve your manners in the time that you have left.”

“Fuck you!” Jon said again, just for good measure. The man simply shook his head and left. Jon tossed and turned and pulled in hope to break free. Then, a big man entered through the doorway. Tall and muscular, built not dissimilar from a gorilla, and totally bald. He was clearly young enough to grow hair, so the bald head was a choice.

“Hello.” The man muttered. “You belong to me now.”


End file.
